The Detective And His Lying Queen
by CosmiQuorraHolmes
Summary: When Loki is exiled to Earth, he changes immensely. Molly arrives at 221B Baker Street and Sherlock points a gun to her head. This is my first Sherloki fanfiction, so be nice! Includes Fem!Loki and the rating may change later on for reasons.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hello again, dear readers! This is my first Avengers fic, let alone a crossover, so don't expect a masterpiece. I'll try my best to make it a good one, and the idea popped into my head in a dream. Plus, it is based on the scene where Loki changes form, and Sherlock will hopefully make an appearance in this chapter. **

**DISCLAMER: Nothing but the plot and Loki's female form is mine, the rest belongs to MARVEL, Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. **

* * *

He was a prince, a God, and a King in his own right. Loki, brother of Thor, could do or be anything he wished: A man, a Jotunn, a woman, even a horse for goodness sake. His heart was torn, between the place that he had grown up in, and the place that he belonged to. As the son of Laufey, it was his obligation to take the throne of Jotunheim. His people, his_true_ people, accepted him more than those in Asgard did, more than the man who he had known to be his father had ever accepted him. He wanted to sit on a throne, wherever it was, and Jotunheim was the easiest way to get it. But he didn't want that one. He wanted _Asgard_.

Loki's powers of illusion were his greatest gift, and many centuries had been spent on perfecting them. The extent of his lies grew and grew; a few of them had been foiled by his goody-two-shoes brother in the name of the Allfather. The Chitauri had assisted him in the ways of interdimentional war while his trick after the battle with Malekith had given him Odin's throne, albeit temporarily. When Odin returned to find a copy of himself already on the throne, Loki was banished to Midgard for his crime against Asgard. This will cover Thor's goodbye.

* * *

Loki: Will you miss me? My lies? My illusions?

Thor: No, but I will miss your presence. You are better than this, Loki. Until yesterday I thought you to be dead! How long do you expect me to take my brother's-

Loki: _WE ARE NOT BROTHERS! _I should not be here. I want to go.

Thor: You think no such thing. No man wishes for loneliness.

Loki: Nor am I a man, Thor. I am known as the brother of the best. A _shadow. _I have caused the deaths of many, and continue to ruin the lives of more. Why not start anew? _Regenerate_, in a way. Leave my dark past behind and take a step towards the light?

Thor: You lie. Why would you, of all people, choose to leave your past? It is who you are, who you choose to be, who you will be?

Loki: Alas, I have a plan. My form will be quite different from this, and difficult to get used to. Now, the time has come for my departure. Do not mourn for me, Thor. Mourn for Frygga. Fairfarren, Prince. See you in a few decades.

And thus, Loki's exile began.

* * *

He landed on Midgard in a Bifrost ring, the bustling streets of London allowing him to hide as soon as he touched down. In an alley, Loki grinned to himself as he prepared the incantation, the distant moon shining in his ice blue eyes and on his raven curls.

_Men are ever changing, _

_Their hearts are ever black. _

_Let the new me be amazing, _

_But allow this form to come back._

_The beauty of a viper, _

_The ability to fight, _

_Allow me to be kinder, _

_But a woman of the night. _

* * *

Her dark curly hair went down to her hips. Her waist grew thin and her hips and chest grew wider. Her bust grew outwards, confusing her slightly, and the area between her legs changed. Her entire masculinity left her, her armour became a knee length dress and her staff became a ring. On her thigh was a golden knife, also from her spear, and flat leather boots finished it off.

Heimdall had told Loki about a man in this Odin-forsaken place, he was intelligent and self-centred, but brave and true and loyal. He was a man of the law who solved crimes as an alternative to intoxicating himself. His name was Sherlock Holmes, and the address was 221B, Baker Street. Sherlock was alone in his apartment through Johns marriage, and sat playing his violin and telling people about themselves and blogging about two-hundred and forty-three types of tobacco ash. Not exactly the best way of living.

Loki made her way towards Baker Street, changing her form once again into the female friend of Sherlock Holmes, Molly Hooper, who cut open bodies for a living. Knocking on the door, it was soon opened, and Molly stood smiling.

Sherlock stood with a gun pointed to her head.

"Who are you and what have you done with Molly?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello and thank you for the views of the first chapter! Shoutout to Cayaha Nightdream (I'll try to make this one less confusing for you :)) and to Consultinginabluebox for the praise. This one should be longer than the original chapter but it will be focused on Sherlock. See you soon! **

* * *

_Sherlock stood by the window of his flat on Baker Street, staring at the pedestrians in the night. His day had been pointless to the consulting detective with three small (adultery, petty theft, murder) cases that he didn't even have to leave his leather chair for. Molly was busy and without her he was unable to get the body parts that he needed to experiment on. John was visiting Harry, his alcoholic sister, with Mary, and thus had no one to talk to, unless Grimm the skull counted. So Sherlock composed and played songs on his dear violin, causing Mrs. Hudson to leave at noon and for he himself to not eat. At around 11PM we see him at the window, his arms folded behind his back and absentmindedly deducing where each person on the street before him was going. _

_But there was one woman there that he just couldn't get around. _

_Her raven curls fell behind her back, her hands fidgeting with the sapphire ring on the middle finger of her right hand. A dark green and black dress that was covered in gold with a turtleneck went down to her knees, and silver-blue eyes studied everything. She looked up and through the window of 221B and her body began to glow golden, her grin going up to her ears, and soon she had a familiar face. All too familiar. _

_Sherlock ran through the room, his brown curls bouncing, down the stairs and grabbed the handgun from the drawer in the hall. She knocked on the door and he opened it, holding the gun before him. Molly stood there. He knew that he wouldn't, _ couldn't, _shoot her, whoever she was, so he asked the question that had been on his mind since he had seen her changing._

"Who are you and what have you done with Molly?"

* * *

"My, my, Mr. Holmes," she said, still grinning at the man who could pull the trigger at any moment, "surely you know better than to threaten someone before you invite them in. It's not polite. Put the gun down."

He did not. "Why should I? What are you to me? For all I know, you could've killed her, and that would be the last thing you ever do."

"_Listen to me_," the woman replied. "I have not touched this Molly girl you speak of, and there is your second question done. To answer the first one I must be inside, for I am unsafe here. Let me in, sir, I beg you."

"Fine," he said after a few seconds, not taking the gun from his hand but moving to let her through. "Up the stairs and straight on. Sit on the chair nearest to the door."

With a thank you, she followed the instructions that he had given her and sat on the sofa with her legs crossed and her arms stretched out behind her. Sherlock walked behind her, gun in hand, and sat in his own leather chair.

"Who are you?"

"I am Loki, of Jotunheim," she replied, returning to her normal, albeit female, form. "I am a god and the son of Laufey, and you made me beg. That is not advised."

"You said_ son_," Sherlock said, "I believe that you mean daughter."

"No," Loki laughed, "I decided to...change. I am usually male but I was compromised after my events in New York City a few years ago. Surely you have heard of them?"

"I'm a part of the group that stopped you," he replied quietly, expecting a godly rage but instead received a smile.

"You mortals sure can fight," she said. "I know that you work for S.H.I.E.L.D, Mr. Holmes, for I have been watching you for a long time. You are the first Midguardian to intrigue me so, because you could use your intelligence against those whom you fight with but do not. You are good at heart, although you may not always seem so. Go on, then," Loki sighed, "rat me out to the man of iron, or to Hulk, or even to Thor. Just allow me to stay."

"Alright, three days. Stark will know tomorrow, though."

"Thank you!" she laughed, and ran up to John's old room, leaving Sherlock alone in the living room.

_What the **hell** have I just done?_

* * *

**So, there's chapter two! Did I do well? Is it alright that Sherlock works for S.H.I.E.L.D? Is it believable? **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello readers! So, last time we see 'Mollys' appearance from Sherlock's POV, found out that he works for S.H.I.E.L.D, and that Loki is to stay with him for three days. This should be a funny chapter. **

**If either of these two belonged to me I would be a millionaire. **

* * *

Who knew that three days with the Asgardian goddess of mischief could be hell?

Because it sure as heck wasn't Sherlock Holmes.

He came back from St. Bart's Hospital on the first day to find himself stood playing the violin, a purple shirt pulled taut at the chest with a dark grey suit jacket and trousers on as well. Loki had made herself into a spitting image of the consulting detective. The real Sherlock stood dumbstruck at what she had done. She was playing a piece that he had composed himself: _Irene. _Of all the songs that she could have chosen, the goddess had picked the second most important song in the man's repertoire. Crap.

A cough from behind the mischievous woman stopped her song in its tracks. She turned around, smiling, and placed the violin carefully in its stand.

"This one is my favourite," Loki said. "Were you in love with this woman?"

"No," Sherlock replied, "she merely intrigued me. I couldn't read her like I can with other people."

"Other people being not me?"

"Yes," he said after a moment. "I need to call Stark. I'll be back in a second."

"No you won't," she called, as he walked into his room.

* * *

He closed the door and took out his phone, dialing Tony Stark's number.

When he picked up, he said "Hey there, Holmes boy! What's up, did John force you to socialise?"

"It's Loki," he sighed, "she's in my flat and is playing my violin."

"_She_?"

"Yes, Anthony, I said she. New York got him exiled and forced him to change form. She is a very good violinist."

"You just praised the most wanted criminal in the _universe. _Are you alright, bud?"

"I'm fine. Just, come over in three days. Bye." Without waiting for a reply, he hung up.

* * *

Sherlock left his room and found the goddess composing. _What is she up to? _

She stood up and put the violin to her neck. The song was slow, but soon grew faster, and was low. She finished, turning to the detective and bowing. She glowed golden again as she had done the day before and returned to her female body.

"That was _The Heroes __Theme,_ the heroes being you and your friend, the doctor. Do you like it?"

"It was...interesting," he replied. "Why is it named after John and I? Surely there are more heroic people out there."

"Well," Loki began, "I was introduced to you by a friend of mine on Asgard, for he himself found your intelligence to be intriguing to him, as the Irene woman was to you, and I soon felt the same. We watched your adventures together, and that song was always in my head when you were running or walking or getting a taxi to the crime scene. I was to be exiled here, to Midgard, so I made my way here yesterday. I have a good understanding of writing music and so I composed. How is our dear pathologist, by the way?"

"_My_ dear pathologist-What am I saying?-Molly is fine."

"You seem tired, Mr Holmes. Go to bed."

* * *

The next day, Sherlock found Irene Adler (fully clothed in a black and cream skintight dress) sitting in his chair. She stared at him, smiling, and said "I can see why you liked this woman. She is quite pretty and her voice sounds nice."

"For God's sake, Loki," he replied angrily, "get out of my seat and back to normal."

She sighed and stood up, returning to her female self, her brown eyes going to green again. "Honestly, Mr Holmes, who is this God you speak of?"

"You can call me Sherlock now, you know," he said. "You'd better not have any pranks set up."

"I can't say that I don't. Try to find it."

"You're on." Thus, his search began. First he went to his room, checking underneath the bed, over the door frame, nothing. Then he looked in the kitchen, again, nothing. Now he was annoyed. The goddess was sat in his seat once again, reading and smiling at the detective. He saw each and every strand of her black hair, every line on her face, every golden highlight of her dress...

"Having fun, there?"

"I will find it eventually."

"Of course."

* * *

**11PM, the same day. **

_Splash! _The head of Sherlock Holmes was covered in a golden slime as Loki's plan worked it's magic. It was on a timer since he checked his room for pranks, and Loki had enchanted the bag so that it was invisible to mortal eyes. She imagined that Heimdall was up there in Asgard laughing his godly pants off.

"_SHIT_!"

She burst into a fit of laughter and ran into her room to escape the wrath of the world's only Consulting Detective, only to fail. She collapsed on her bed as the man barged in, his hair sticking to his head and dripping slime onto his shoulders.

"What is this?" he yelled. "What have you done!"

"It's a simple gelatinous mixture," she said between laughs, "it will come off."

"Why me? Why didn't I see it?"

"Enchantments. You must remember who I am, Sherlock. I am _the _Prankster."

"No more, then."

"I'll try."

* * *

**So, next chapter will be the last day of Loki's life in 221B! Tony should arrive and I'll see where it goes from there. Thanks to Cahaya for the review and thanks again for reading! **


End file.
